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Copyright N°. 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



POEMS 



BY 



HENRY BARRETT HINCKLEY 



NORTHAMPTON, MASSACHUSETTS 

THE NONOTUCK PRESS 

1909 



*\ 



,17*377 



Copyright, 1909, by 
Henry Barrett Hinckley 






CONTENTS. 



FACE 



Caesar's Wife 5 

Savonarola 2 ' 

Oberon and Titania 31 

Vesper 36 

Her Face 37 

Madeline Kneeling 38 

The Last Rose 39 



CAESAR'S WIFE. 



Dramatis Personae. 

lucius Cornelius sulla, dictator. 
lucius licinius murena, his lieutenant. 
CHRYSOGONUS, his freedman. 
CAius julius caesar, a young Roman. 

LUCIUS DIDIUS, 

xitus, \ friends of Caesar. 

PUBLIUS, 
ARCH IAS, 

- slaves. 

DAVOS, 

Other slaves. Twenty-four lictors. 



CAESAR'S WIFE. 

Scene. — Rome. The Dining Hall in the House 
of Caesar. Among the 'properties an Image 
of Marius. Caesar, Didius, Titus and Publius 
drinking and throiving dice. 

TITUS. 

Our Lucius throws the very dice of Jove: 
Always the triple six ! Good Didius, 
Upon what altar with what sacrifice 
Hast thou invoked Dame Fortune? 

DIDIUS. 

Sesterces 
Are light to win and lighter far to lose. 
Do you throw, Publius? 

PUBLIUS. 

Nay, I do not find 
This losing light. 

CAESAR. 

Bring Publius a cup 
New-wreath'd with roses of Falernian; 
For wine is blood of courage in the heart, 
Making men kings, and kings philosophers. 
What were you telling, Lucius? 



Caesar's Wife. 

DIDIUS. 

This Antistia 
Was daughter to Antistius, the pretor 
That tried the cause; and fashion doth report 
No youth in Rome more fair than Cnaeus Pompey. 
The daughter whisper'd in her father's ear: 
And, from that time, no word of peculation. 
Pompey was clear'd where love was evidence. 

TITUS. 
Was Pompey honest, think you? 

DIDIUS. 

Ev'n as much 
As honesty lies in the grace of judges. 

PUBLIUS. 

If ever I shall dip my hands in bribes 
I pray that some Antistius be pretor; 
And may a lovely daughter at his side 
Sit like presiding Justice! 

TITUS. 

Cnaeus Pompey 
Did put aside the lovely form of Justice 
When Sulla spoke. The daughter he divorced, 
The father slighted. Caius, was it brave? 
Would you as Pompey? 



Caesar's Wife. 

CAESAR. 

Nay, let Pompey be. 
Know you a man in Rome that would resist 
Under like circumstance the word of Sulla? 

DIDIUS. 

They say this Sulla by his own decree 
Hath made himself the chosen favorite 
Of your Aeneas' mother. Heaven obeys 
The nod of Rome's dictator, and your sires, 
Good Caius, all are subject to his will. 

CAESAR. 

I prithee, Lucius Didius, mock me not. 
Sulla is subject to his own heart's mirth, 
And if the gods forbear shall Caesar chide? 

DIDIUS. 

Our Caius will not be as common gods. 
He parries with a jest a giant's arm, 
The hundred-handed Sulla climbing heaven. 

TITUS. 

And look, the very dice applaud the jest! 

PUBLIUS. 

No more for me! Good Caius, these are yours, 
And truly I would coin my heart to lose 
To one that so doth value coin of love. 



Caesar's Wife. 

CAESAR. 

No, keep the stakes. If you are Caesar's friend 
You win by losing to him. Life is brief, 
From womb to tomb a momentary space, 
Nor hath man greater honor in his hour 
Than to have profited to all his friends. 

TITUS. 

Most noble Caius! 

[Knocking heard.'] 

CAESAR. 

Ha! what noise was that? 
[Loud and long knocking.] 
Inexorable haste to beat the doors 
That evermore are open! Archias, 
Thine office is nomenclator. Attend! 
What hubbub is this? Could a lictor's ax 
More insolently hew its tyrannous way 
Into our sacred home of privacy? 

TITUS. 

Caius Caesar, thou hast Sulla's soul! 

Beware thou mock not at authority, 

For thou shalt sooner tinge thy toga's edge 

In deep and inmost purple of thy heart 

Than stand before his frown who frowneth death. 

[Enter chrysogonus.] 

8 



Caesar's Wife. 

CAESAR. 

Peace to foreboding ! Here 's his messenger. 
What is 't, Chrysogonus, that brings you hither? 
We do not use to have authority 
Beating our doors with loud oppression. Speak ! 

CHRYSOGONUS. 

I come to speak to Caius Julius Caesar. 
Sulla hath markt you, honor'd you, and lov'd. 
He bids you therefore speedily renounce 
Alliance with his foes. You have to wife 
The daughter of Cornelius Cinna. Her 
He bids you instantly to set aside. 
He bids you hold yourself more dearly far 
Than question the authority of Rome. 
His hands are full of honor and of death: 
Your destiny now lies upon your tongue. 

CAESAR. 

How terrible is Sulla in his love! 
So Jupiter appear'd to Semele, 
In might of fire and thunder. Quickly, sir, 
Go tell your general, the great dictator, 
We Julians are descended of the gods, 
And at our hearths we have already love 
And highest honor. Bid him keep his gifts 
For those more needy. I will keep my wife. 

TITUS. 

Thou art a Roman seeking thine own death. 
Speak mildly, Caius. 

9 



Caesar's Wife. 

CAESAR. 

Nay, I cannot change. 
The halting steward of the jeering gods 
Was not so lame but that he could avenge 
The insolence of Mars that took his wife. 

CHRYSOGONUS. 

How glibly doth the young man talk of gods! 

PUBLIUS. 

Caius, thou art young; reject not life! 

CHRYSOGONUS. 

1 will speak mildly, for he bade me so. 
Bethink you, bind yourself to Sulla's love: 

The Senate rules, and consulship and triumph, 
Life and the greatness that a Roman loves 
Now hang by your obedience. If he come, 
The great dictator's self that sent me hither, 
I will not breathe of what may be your fate. 

CAESAR. 

Why, now you have a true patrician's accent 

That will not wound the softness of the ear 

With words of evil. Friend, return to Sulla. 

Tell him with omens gentle as his own 

I keep my wife, Cornelia, being true, 

Faithful above suspicion, loving, gentle, 

The daughter of Cornelius Cinna, once the friend 

10 



Caesar's Wife. 

Of Caius Marius that my uncle was 
And the deliverer of ancient Rome. 

CHRYSOGONUS. 

Your eloquence hath marr'd you, mocking me! 

CAESAR. 

I reverence my name, not mocking you. 

CHRYSOGONUS. 

I say you mock me! You have heard. — Obey! 

CAESAR. 

I have obey'd the spirit of my sires. 

CHRYSOGONUS. 

Insolent stripling, you shall join them straight! 
[Exit.'] 

PUBLIUS. 

Caius, quickly call him back, repent! 

CAESAR. 

Never ! 

PUBLIUS. 

Nay, thou shalt die unless thou do. 
11 



Caesar's Wife. 

DIDIUS. 

Unless thou yield I cannot be thy friend. 
Thou soar'st aloft into the very sun 
On wings of Icarus. 

CAESAR. 

It is not long 
That I, perchance, shall trouble you with friend- 
ship. 

PUBLIUS. 

Caius, speak not so. We love thee all, 
And earnestly we bid thee love thy life 
And put aside the passion of thy youth, 
Thy wife Cornelia. Love, they say, doth pass, 
But life remaineth sweet unto the end. 
Caius, hear me. Whither shall I turn 
If thou shalt die ? 

CAESAR. 

The heart of Caius Caesar 
Is purple-bordered like the curule robe, 
Nor can forget its office to be high. 
Shall I desert the meanest of my friends 
To be a bruited coward? Sulla rules, 
Shedding the blood of Romans in our streets; 
He dictates in our Senate, is a god 
In all our temples, calls himself the friend 
Of Venus and of Fortune. Be it so! 

12 



Caesar's Wife. 

Yet that one soul of which I am the lord 
I will keep lordly, and within my home 
I stoop for naught save courtesy or law. 

publius. 

Then, Caius, let me with thee die, for thou 
Art more than Sulla, tho he greatly nod 
The brow of Jupiter. 

TITUS. 

Nay, 'tis a tyrant! 
A red-comb'd rooster strutting in our yard! 
A Tarquin with our dames, an old Etruscan! 

CAESAR. 

He is a soldier, and Rome's enemies, 
Jugurtha and the Pontic Mithridates, 
The Samnite and the Tuscan, fled from him, 
And Rome was sav'd in hollow of his hand. 
[Turns to the Image of Marius.] 

Marius, Marius ! thou didst face the Gaul 
O'erswarming Italy; thou didst defeat 

The Cimbrian and the savage of the Rhine. 
Rome breathes through thee, and wreathed art 

thou gone 
Where hangs the grandeur of the calm of death. 
[To the company.'] 

1 will go seek the lady. Good my friends, 
Be merry while you may, for life is life, 
And in my will you are remember'd all. 

13 



Caesar's Wife. 

ALL. 

Most noble Caesar ! 

PUBLIUS. 

We will never leave thee! 

CAESAR. 

Softly, my friends; the end of life is death. 
Let death be sudden and ourselves prepar'd. 
I will go seek Cornelia, whom, perchance, 
I shall not see hereafter. Bide you here. 
Davos, bring wine. If the dictator comes 
Tell him I will return. A kind farewell! 
[Exit] 

TITUS. 

This Caesar if he lives will be more great 
Than Lucius Sulla. 

PUBLIUS. 

Come all friends to aid. 
He must not die that thus hath spoken freedom. 

DIDIUS. 

Nay, save him if you can. Obedience 

Is light of price. Why should he love his wife? 

14 



Caesar's Wife. 

TITUS. 

It is the spirit of old Sextus Tarquin 
To meddle with our homes. If such shall rule 
We shall have dancing satyrs at our hearths 
For old penates. 

PUBLIUS. 

ye sacred hills! 

DIDIUS. 

Nay, listen me, for you are children both. 

Do you suppose this trouble on this house 

Is but a private grief of love and passion? 

It is a matter gravely politic. 

For Caesar's wife was Cinna's child. The foes 

Of our dictator muster round the names 

Of Marius and Cinna. Sulla seeks 

To draw our Caesar to the Senate's part 

Forsaking Cinna's. 'T is a deed of love 

In him who reaps a harvest by each death 

To offer Caesar life on light condition. 

Let him forsake this woman for another. 

He shall have love anon, for he has youth; 

And peace, too, shall he have and Sulla's favor. 

Let men that love their lives be wise! 

TITUS. 

cease ! 
I never knew thee for a friend of tyrants. 

15 



Caesar-'s Wife. 

PUBLIUS. 

thou hast spoken treason of thy friend! 

TITUS. 

Let them submit that will; yet Vesta's fire, 
The symbol and the common hearth of Rome, 
Hath not more sacred ashes than the hearts 
That burn for ancient freedom. In our homes 
There is an unquencht spark. Caius Caesar, 
All gods I do invoke to give thee speed! 
And if thou die ascend thou to the gods 
Whose love hath widen'd Rome, and in their ears 
Tell them an Eastern conqueror hath won 
The altars that they lov'd ! 

DIDIUS. 

Is Caius Caesar 
A god already that thou call'st him thus? 
Mark me, I spoke to you as one should speak 
That wisely loves a friend that is a man 
Subject to Fortune. 'T is a throw of dice 
Which Roman rules. If Caius love his life 
He yet may stand more high than Lucius Sulla. 
An ancient house is his, the people's love, 
Which were not Sulla's. Let him love his life. 

TITUS. 

Is it a throw of dice who rules in Rome? 
Then let me pour this wine and greatly pray. 
[Pours a libation.'] 

16 



Caesar's Wife. 

Fortune, be not all of Sulla's faction! 
Smile thou on Caesar, too, for he is young, 
Great in his spirit, mightily belov'd! 

[Takes a dice-box.] 
Now will I throw, abiding thy decision, 
Great arbiter ev'n of the fates of gods! 
If it be high that you shall see me throw, 
Then be thou high, our Julius, and guard 
In thy great spirit liberty and hearths, 
And wives and images of sires and lares, 
The inmost chamber of the heart of Rome. 

[Throws the dice. Before he uncovers 

a loud noise is heard. He starts back. 

Enter lictors folloiv'd by SULLA, MU- 

RENA and CHRYSOGONUS.] 

SULLA. 

It is the spirit of old Marius 

Inciting to rebellion. In the field 

He was a worthy soldier; but at home, 

Seeking to rule and lord it o'er the state 

And win the hearts of true-discerning Romans — 

Bethink you, sirs, a graceless Polypheme 

Courting the sea-nymph Popularity ; 

An old, unwieldly giant, with his foot 

Broad and unwitting set on ancient rights. 

CHRYSOGONUS. 

My lord, he was to me most insolent, 
Rebellious in his answer, tho I was 
Your Excellency's messenger. I pray you 
Avenge yourself! 

17 



Caesar's Wife. 

SULLA. 

Peace, good Chrysogonus! 
This is the Julian mansion. Where is he? 

DIDIUS. 

My lord dictator, he was even now 
In counsel with us, and he bade us say 
That if you came he would return anon. 

SULLA. 

I did not think to find you, Lucius Didius, 
In counsel with rebellion. Get you hence! 
Avoid this house forever — do you hear? 
I once had thought you friendly to the state. 
Nay, not a word — obey ! 

[Exit DIDIUS.] 

A soldier, sirs, 
Must do the bidding of the general. 

CHRYSOGONUS. 

Thou art a trumpet summoning old Rome 
To thine unconquer'd banner. Let them die 
That will not feel the stir of loyal blood 
When thou dost sound the order ! 

SULLA. 

Softly, sir. 
Here comes our Caesar; youthful is his look, 
Slender and graceful as the Syrian god 
Whom maidens mourn. 

[Enter caesar.] 

18 



Caesar's Wife. 

O Caesar, I could yield 
Ev'n to that love thy presence bears with thee. 
Too delicate thou art for war's alarms; 
Thy life is peace; I bid thee seek thine ease. 

CAESAR. 

My lord, 't is said yourself were f ram'd for peace : 
Letters you lov'd and high philosophy, 
The cup of wine, the deeper cup of love. 

SULLA. 

'T is true, 't is true ! It is most aptly true ! 
Myself was as yourself, young, delicate, 
Yet have I beaten enemies of Rome 
Wherever I have met them on the field. 
All Greece and Thrace and Macedonia 
Lay cow'd before the arms of Mithridates; 
Who sow'd rebellion in the allied hearts 
Of Samnite and Etruscan, till our state 
Was tempest-shaken with the pulse of war. 
Sedition burn'd like fever in our streets, 
The arteries of this city. On the sea 
Swarm'd gadfly pirates in a cloud to sting 
The peace of ev'ry landsman. Forth I went, 
Leaving my private foes to burn my home, 
Butcher my wife and children, while I fought 
The common enemy, the Pontic king. 
Hard fought I on each field, nor had I fleet 
To aid my sieges nor provision me. 
Upon Beotia's plain by Cephisus 
Hard were we prest, my best of soldiers waver'd. 

19 



Caesar's Wife. 

Then threw I off my helm, and swiftly rode 

In furious galop through the wavering ranks 

Where darts flew thick, and evermore I cried : 

"Soldiers, let it be said if on this day, 

You ever did forsake your general!" 

Then shame brought cheer and courage to their 

hearts. 
They charged, we won. Yet ev'ry week there came 
From Rome some messenger denouncing me, 
Calling me outlaw, traitor, bidding me 
Resign command to carping demagogs. 
Whom, loving Rome, I did ignore, and past 
From Greece to Asia, pinning Mithridates 
Within his proper fold. And I aveng'd 
The Romans he had massacred, regain'd 
The Asian revenues he stript us of; 
And on Euphrates' banks I first receiv'd 
Of Roman generals Parthian embassies. 

CAESAR. 

Our children's children, sir, when they shall read 
Of these your actions all shall call you great. 
If ever I do deeds as great as yours 
I shall, like you, write commentaries of them. 
For I am young, unknown nor lauded high, 
Yet would I fight Rome's battles ev'n as you. 

SULLA. 

'T is courteously said, you are patrician, 
The order that I seek to found anew, 
Beating as low as hell and Tartarus 

20 



Caesar's Wife. 

The traitors and the rabble that withstand. 
Shall I that sav'd this Rome from Samnite arms 
In desperate struggle at the Colline Gate, 
What time all broken with a weary march 
From night till morning in the terrible dark 
We battled blindly — I that sav'd this state, 
Which else had perisht utterly from earth, 
Betray the confidence of Roman gods 
By yielding Rome to lawless mobbery? 
You are patrician; let your fathers' blood 
Speak in your deeds! I bid you purge yourself, 
Ev'n to the extreme of purging, from the stain 
Whereto you are allied. Cornelius Cinna, 
The enemy of ev'ry optimate, 
Was father to your wife. Set her aside. 

CAESAR. 

Never, my lord. 

SULLA. 

You do withstand me, sir? 

CAESAR. 

I stand upon the honor of my house. 
Longer I will not choose to wear my life 
Than as a seemly garment. While I live 
I will not speak assent to tyranny. 

SULLA. 

Most insolent! You do forget that I 
Am the dictator, by the Senate's vote 

21 



Caesar's Wife. 

Created as an instrument of death 
To ev'ry demagog and ev'ry traitor. 

CAESAR. 

Call me then traitor when I have betray'd 
The name of Caesar ! In the streets, my lord, 
Your rule is absolute. The Senate's vote 
Robes you with office in each public place. 
Lictors attend you, and of life and death 
The chance of war hath made you arbiter 
To ev'ry Roman. But within this house, 
And for what touches me as near as wife, 
I will be Caius Caesar till I die. 
It is not the tradition of our house 
That Julians bow save unto Roman law. 
You tread on Rome as on a subject city 
When, vaunting high authority, you come 
To annul my rights as citizen of Rome. 

SULLA. 

Young man, I think you have not understood : 
My name is Lucius Sulla. In my hand 
I hold law, life, and liberty and death. 
Obey me: speedily you shall be great. 
Resist me: none shall ever mark your tomb 
Nor say: "Who was he?" On this little choice 
Is hung your destiny. Forsake your wife 
And love another. Did not I the same? 
You shall command an army and I read 
Of triumph in your brow. Be obstinate: 
I will not breathe that omen on your house 
To tell you what shall happen. 



Caesar's Wife. 

CAESAR. 

I have said 
What is to say. I shall retain my wife. 
Tho ev'ry Roman throughout Italy 
Stood lictor to you with a lictor's sheaf, 
And ev'ry lictor's ax were red with blood, 
I would not yield. Is honor less than life? 

SULLA. 

This is the veriest Marius of them all! 
Too many of thy like do strut in Rome 
Courting the voice of brawling demagogs. 
Around this man what rabble will arise! 
Our Cimbrians will rule us, and belike 
We favor'd of the gods shall feel the lash, 
The chains and bitterness of slavery! 

[To the lictors.~\ 
Seize him, I say; lead him to instant death! 

MURENA. 

My lord, forbear! 

SULLA. 
Nay, not a word! 

MURENA. 

The state 
Shall profit by his youth. 

2:5 



Caesar's Wife. 

SULLA. 

Nay, by his death! 

MURENA. 

He is the stuff that ancient Romans were 
What time our fathers fought with Hannibal. 

SULLA. 

Let him be brave to other men than me! 

MURENA. 

Do me this grace, my lord, to spare his life, 

I will be surety for his good behavior. 

We have proscrib'd already of the Caesars 

His grandsire and his uncle. Banish him. 

He shall learn wisdom in a foreign land 

And hunger for the Rome where he hath spurn'd 

The fortune of your favor. Good my lord, 

If ever I have follow'd you on field, 

Spare this young man, whom sure you cannot fear. 

Nay, for you promist me to grant this day 

A boon when I should ask it. Spare his life. 

SULLA. 

I never lost a battle until now. 
Surely I see dominion in his eye 
That so withstands me. 

24 



Caesar's Wife. 

MURENA. 

Yet if he shall rule 
He cannot change his high patricianhood, 
And therefore can the Senate little suffer. 
He shall learn wisdom when he gathers years 
And Rome shall need his spirit when we are gone. 

SULLA. 

Ay, there 's a point ! Young man, I spare your 

life; 
I leave to you this woman whom you prize. 
Yet little shall you profit by your pride: 
I confiscate her dower, her father's fortune; 
I interdict you, too, from fire and water. 
If three weeks hence you be in Italy 
Your life is forfeited. Whom I shall send 
Shall reason with the dagger, which no heart 
Is proof against. Away, my friends. 
Surely we have affairs of greater moment 
Than little Caesar's, whose obscurity 
Shall be his safety. Lictors, right face, march ! 
Come, good Murena and Chrysogonus! 

[Exeunt sulla, murena, chrysogonus 
and lictors. publius comes forward 
and uncovers the dice.'] 

PUBLIUS. 

Titus, look ! It is the triple six. 

The gods were with us tho they thunder'd not 

Save in the voice of Sulla. 

25 



Caesar's Wife. 
TITUS. 

Marius 
So aw'd the slave his executioner 
That he in panic from his office turn'd. 
But thou, our Caesar, with thy conquering eye 
Hast overaw'd the master in whose sight 
All men are slaves. 

CAESAR. 

Jupiter most high, 
Thou stayer of the enemies of Rome! 
Surely I dream'd that thou didst wreathe my head, 
Thine eagle flew above me on the right. 
Good friends, I leave you. To depart in haste 
Must be mine utmost office. Fare you well. 
For to be free is still to be a mark 
For Sulla's anger. Love me being gone, 
And when I come again my strength shall shield 
you. 

[Exeunt.] 



SAVONAROLA. 

Ferrara, 1474. 

How sweet my lute-string murmurs, throbbing low 
With subtle pleasure hid in subtle pain! 
And, half, the bright eye moistens, half, a smile 
Breaks round the mouth, so wondrous 't is to hear. 
Mother, methinks my lute's low notes are lives, 
Vibrant and sweetly transient from the sense 
To harmonies of silence. This my life 
Is writ as theirs ; and it is even now 
I feel a sad crescendo of the soul. 

"Renounce, renounce, forevermore renounce!" 
It is my heart's sad burden; yet I know 
I have not lov'd the glory of this world. 
I have not in the insolence of mind 
Forgotten God, nor in a learned pride 
Thrown sanctity to idols, base-born gods 
That bow'd the knee of unillumin'd Greece. 
That marble world, the ghost of buri'd days, 
Speaks to me of the earth, whereto it sank 
Before the voice of Him who spake of heaven. 
Yea, from a child methinks my heart hath borne 
Some sweetness of the radiance of Christ. 

'T is long ago, yet still the memory lives 
How as a boy I stood beside the Po 
And saw Duke Borso's purple galley move, 
With streamers flaunting and with instruments, 
Pipes, drums and trumpets, and fair singing boys, 

27 



Savonarola. 

Upstream toward Mantua, whence Pope Pius came, 
In a like floating splendor, gay with song. 
Then, prow to prow, the floating galleys came 
Mid craft innumerable down the stream 
And measur'd dip of silver-flashing oars. 
Dost thou remember how on either bank 
Rose statues of the pagan deities? 
And I with other boys stood garlanded, 
Pelting the stream with flow'rs, and cried aloud: 
"Long live the Pope!" and "Long may Borso live!" 

Behind me rose a statue fair and white 
(0 whited sepulcher of wicked thought!), 
A Bacchus in the tendrils of his vine, 
With light thyrse on his shoulder, tipsily 
Half-reeling from the carven pedestal. 
And as the Pope was passing an old man, 
Plague-scarr'd and ragged, and in weary pain 
Lean'd pantingly against the pedestal. 
Till pompously an officer came by, 
With half a twang of Latin in his nose, 
And beat him thence : "Vile garbage of the street, 
That dost defile the white and beauteous gods 
With all-polluting presence, get thee gone! 
In malam rem!" And whack the tipstaff came 
'Thwart the bare shoulder, and a purple wale 
Started in anger from the wounded flesh. 
Ah ! then methought the splendor of this world 
Was bitter mockery, and the princely Pope, 
That was Christ's vicar, all unlikest Him 
Whose royalty was thorns upon His brow. 
And suddenly the flow'rs fell from my lap; 
My voice, a flutter'd prisoner in my throat, 
Could shout aloud no longer. In mine eyes 
I felt the salt of sorrow bid me weep. 

28 



Savonarola. 

Oh, seek not for me that my name may shine 
In princely courts for learning, for my heart 
Is given to One that is a prince above! 

How like the spirit is my lute-string's sound ! 
Whence comes nor whither goes it no man knows. 
So voices haunt me, visions in the night, 
That beckon me to more than human loves. 

Thou know'st the Strozzi maiden in our street. 
Like a madonna's is her radiant face. 
Upon my heart her shadow fell like light, 
Subduing me to gentle reverence. 
Methought that blessed in her love my life 
Might be as heaven. But suddenly in scorn 
She turn'd upon me with a haughty word : 
A Strozzi might not wed ungentle blood! 
I had some human anger, and I thought 
The humble were the very blood of Christ. 
And, therefore, when she chid me for my blood 
She wrong'd the heart that mov'd it. But I know 
That when our deeds are searcht at utmost Time 
And ev'ry secret soilure of our lives 
Stands large in revelation, shall be known 
Who had the gentle soul, and who had spread 
Th' imperial wing, for soaring eagle-like. 

Alas, for human anger, human love 
And human pride that lurks in human love! 
My heart commend I to the God that made it 
And never woman shall I love again. 

Now is the last flush faded from the west; 
The shadow deepens in the azure air; 
And lo, already in the farthest east 
Night with one hand unveils the solemn stars. 
Beloved mother, of yon heavenly peace 
I have seen visions. But corrupted flesh 

29 



Savonarola. 

Is fiercely troubled when it burns of God. 
And now already in my heart there glows 
Fire of God's altar; I already tread 
The purgatory spiral, round by round 
With fervid steps to climb the burning peak, 
And if no less may rid me of my sin 
Will fall in ashes at the feet of God. 
The pain of life is nobler than the joy, 
For out of pain comes pow'r to conquer pain. 
Then seek not for me wealth nor worldly fame. 
I cannot heal the sick that am of soul 
More sick than any. A physician's fee 
Were loathsome to me, and the touch of gold 
Is as pollution and the stain of death. 
And more for me is volum'd in that book 
Where line by line is drawn the plan of God 
By great Saint Thomas' finger than in all 
The antique wisdom of the Stagirite. 

Now chimes the solemn vesper on the ear, 
The convent organ murmurs, and the monks 
Arise and cross themselves and kneel and pray, 
Barefooted on the holy convent floor. 
Mother, if nevermore thou see my face, 
Howe'er thou weep, forgive me, for my heart 
Is turn'd — ah, God! I cannot tell thee where! 



30 



OBERON AND TITANIA. 

OBERON. 

Where have you been, Titania? 

TITANIA. 

Down the hill. 
The moonlight beckon'd brightly, so that still 
I could not be. What fay can sluggish lie 
When moonlight twinkles softly on her eye? 
You shall not chide me that I left the bow'r. 
Nay, look benignly, for I shall not cow'r. 
Pish, I can frown as well ! 

OBERON. 

I did not chide. 
And yet it vext me that you could not bide 
With me till morning. If you slight my crown 
That am your husband, then I think a frown 
Will little rule you. 

TITANIA. 

Do you really sigh? 
What would my Oberon to droop his eye? 
My bow'r-maids all were with me there, and harm 
Befel us never at the dairy-farm. 
Tho we make mad with mischief on the shelves, 
And spill the fattest cream to feast ourselves, 

31 



Oberon and Titania. 

And sour the milk, and pilfer curds and whey, 
Yet mortals never catch us at our play. 
They always flounder when a fairy springs, 
Mab has her laugh and all the dairy rings. 



OBERON. 

My Mab of mockery, unwean'd of wile, 
There is the tease of witchcraft in your smile. 
You make of mortals mock and merriment, 
And laughingly elude their ev'ry hent. 
Less subtly doth the dew of morning slip 
From off the purple-drooping harebell's lip, 
So hiding in the mazes of the wind 
That where it is, not prophecy can find. 
I know this ground, each tuft and ring and nook, 
Each twist and ripple of the winding brook, 
Each laughing eddy; but, 0, who can skill 
Each knot and dimple of a woman's will? 



TITANIA. 

Ay, lay it on the women in fine phrase! 

And yet, our Puck, they say, has pantry ways. 

But we be noble folk in all our play, 

And have seen wondrous things. But shall I say? 

OBERON. 

Ah, now the story! Quickly, love, go on! 
And, if I nod, I am not Oberon. 

32 



Oberon and Titania. 

TITANIA. 

It was not daylight when we reacht the ridge 
From which the cascade tumbles, and the bridge 
Of sedge o'erarching, which each wind divides, 
So that none save my Oberon derides 
The peril of its passing. 

OBERON. 

Did you cross? 

TITANIA. 

No, but we sat us on a bank of moss, 
And markt the pomp and pageant of the skies. 
For in the gray of great Aurora's eyes 
The fair love-planet twinkled, but grew dim 
Before the mellow morning. Then the rim 
Of all the east was burnisht, and the rare 
Slow stars were melted into dewy air. 
And then, a sight for kingly eyes deviz'd, 
Those hills by magic morning alchemiz'd. 

We paus'd awhile at foot of the cascade, 
For there, beneath the mists and rainbows play'd 
An elf, swung out upon a blade of grass 
To jeer the solemn bubbles as they pass. 
Anon he dropt on one that broke in spray, 
And came up under one in frolic way; 
And, floating 'neath the bubble down the stream, 
He ogled till he made my maidens scream, 
And scatter swift as startled minnows hide. 

Then, from the knoll what pleasance we espied : 
The rolling tillage where the broom is brave, 

33 



Oberon and Titania. 

The pied, sweet meadow where the daisies wave, 
The plot where clover maketh sweet the sod, 
And bees make drowsy cloverheads to nod 
While they for honey clamber, taking all. 
Not ev'n for Mab they leave it, who 's so small 
She pulls the honey with her finger fine 
Out of that jester's cap, the columbine. 

We wander'd far away, and 0, so long! 
But back we turn'd us when the noon was strong 
In burning might above us. Oberon, 
Look, I have finisht but not yet begun! 
I should have told you how we witcht the pail 
Foaming with milk ; how tawny-tumbling ale 
Came laughing from the cask, the spigot turn'd; 
And how we woke a bat, and teasing, earn'd 
A seat ev'n on the flow'ring apple-bough 
To gird the lubber mortal at his plow. 
But I have skipt and laught, nor told you all. 
You '11 purse your lips, and mockingly you '11 call 
Me gadding Mab, to knot and dimple still 
Like yonder brook that babbles down the hill. 
But if you say so, Oberon, say too 
I never yet was faithless unto you. 
Love me a little for my tongue at play, 
A little even for my woman's way. 

OBERON. 

Caprice of play I grudge you not a jot. 
With all your pranks, you have your stedfast spot. 
You wind and wander as the brook doth fall, 
Where'er the bend is easy. But through all 
You are the soul of singing, bright and clear, 

34 



Oberon and Titania. 

Untroubled in a thought. I love you, dear. 
For, like the bee to whom the clover yields, 
Loaded with all the sweetness of the fields 
You come to me; and till you come, I long. 
Now, turn your cheek; I will not do it wrong. 



35 



VESPER. 



Thy shaft of light is like a temple-key 

That opens souls. The wings of thy sweet beams 

Beat dewy odors on the hearts to be 
Partakers of the peace of love in dreams. 

And peace to me, dear Star, thou whisperest 
From the soft loveliness of rosy hights 

Ere yet into the bosom of the west 

The day is folded and the world is night's. 

My heart goes with thee as I hear thy lay, 
Chief minstrel of the singing spheres above! 

Swan of the twilight, song of dying day, 
That sailest the eternal mere of love ! 



30 



HER FACE. 

Her face it is, the shadow of her soul. 

Yet not her face — ah, that is past away! 

The picture's gentle silence seems to say 
To all who knew her ere she reacht that goal, 
All-waiting and mysterious, where the roll 

Of life's sweet murmur ceases : "Thou didst love 

Me living. Now I know thy heart; and of 
Thy tenderness, like Patience' spotless stole, 
My face is the reward, and shineth still." 

Breathlessly perfect, sweet and strong, ev'n now 
Thou art a light through death! Thy wom- 
an's eye 
Transposes time; thou livest with the will 

Of girlish majesty white on thy brow ! 

And thy lips, silent, whisper things that sigh. 



37 



MADELINE KNEELING. 

The sunlight, golden, rosy, soft, 

Falls lovingly around; 
Through stori'd pane, rose-window'd loft 

And swelling organ-sound. 

She kneels. The aureole on her hair 

Is like an angel's wings; 
A solemn glory bathes her there 

Of translunary things. 

Soft as the paces of the moon 
Her bosom heaves; her breath 

Is stiller than the calm of June 
When life is still as death. 

Her heart it throbs, and no one knows ; 

Her lips are seal'd; her prayer, 
The incense of a folded rose, 

Makes balm where angels are. 



38 



THE LAST ROSE. 

You that in the sunshine blow, 
Sweetly come and sweetly go, 
Like the summer, lo, you pass, 
Fading with the fading grass. 

Wilful, wanton little comer, 
Could you only bloom in summer? 
Now 's the turning of the leaves ; 
Autumn stands in russet sheaves. 

Where you shed your petals, there 
Fragrance lingers in the air. 
Where you mingle with the sod 
Ghosts arise of golden-rod. 



39 



1/ 



POEMS 



HENRY BARRETT HINCKLEY 



NORTHAMPTON, MASSACHUSETTS 

THE NONOTUCK PRESS 

1909 



LEFe '\0 



NOTES ON CHAUCER 

BY 

HENRY BARRETT HINCKLEY 

A commentary (unaccompanied by the text) on 
the Prolog to the Canterbury Tales and on the 
Tales of Knight, Nun's Priest Pardoner, Clerk 
ka fire and Franklin. This work gives, in concise 
fom theresul?of years of study, illustrating the 
subTect from many and various points of view It 

our language and literature. We believe tnat very 
few books on Chaucer contain an equal amount 
of new, pertinent and valuable matter. 

In fullness and learning the only pre- 
vions Chancer commentary comparable 
with it is that which accompanies Prof 
W. V. Skeat's standard edition of the 
poet's works. The (New York) Nation. 

The volnme is a learned a*"™ 1 "^ 
contribution to Chaucerian study which 
no editor can hereafter afford to overlook. 

Dr. Horace Howard Furness. 



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